The Eagle's Flight
by GasmaskedMook
Summary: Toby never wanted anything more than a quiet life in the Vault with his father and his history books. The Wasteland terrifies him. So when he is offered a chance to bring back the old America, he agrees without hesitation. If only it was that easy...
1. Chapter 1

"Halt!"

The boy did the only sane thing to do when confronted with a heavily armed man in powered armour: he obeyed. Warily, he put his hands in the air, careful to show that they held simple tools as opposed to weapons. The figure which had called out stepped closer, the unmistakable whine of servo motors confirming the boy's earlier hypothesis although this armour was both darker and more angular than the T-45b suits worn by the Brotherhood. The man's voice came out tinny through the speakers.

"Are you on Project Purity?"

The boy nodded slowly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Y-Yes..."

The man was silent for a moment. The boy felt the already stained jumpsuit he wore become damp with sweat. He wished dearly that he had his gun but he had left the battered rifle with most of his other things in a cabinet in the upper rooms, even if he knew it wouldn't have made a difference. He had seen what power armour could withstand, watched Brotherhood Paladins wade through fusillades of gunfire as if the bullets were just a warm spring rain. If this man decided to shoot, he would be an oozing puddle of gloop in seconds. The man in powered armour played with something on the side of his helmet and the boy realised the man must be conferring with someone over the helmet's radio. After another long moment, the man spoke again through the helmet's speakers.

"The Colonel wants to speak with you."

The boy exhaled slightly and followed the man up the stairs towards the control room. Colonel? So whoever these people were, they used old military ranks, unlike the weird pseudo-feudal system that the Brotherhood used. Combined with the fact they had functional power armour...

"Excuse me?"

The power armoured man turned, his black almost insect like visage supremely menacing in the poor light. The boy made a tiny squeak of fright but set his jaw. If he could kill a Centaur without throwing up, he could ask one bloody question.

"Who are you people?"

To his surprise, the man laughed. The noise was distorted by the speakers but it was neither bitter and jaded, nor psychotic and cruel. In a way, it was one of the first genuine pieces of laughter the boy had heard since coming out of the Vault. Yet at the same time, he did not feel comforted at all.

"Who are we? We're the Enclave."

The Enclave? As in from the radio...? The boy had listened to their broadcast, indeed, ever since Three Dog had started calling him 'the Wasteland Messiah', it had been his main source of entertainment. He thought back to his old history classes under Mr Brotch, of the old American government. Were they anything like that? Did they still have a Constitution and a Congress and a Statue of Liberty? He had seen the old Capitol building through a pair of binoculars and it looked like an awful wreck...

"Jennings?"

Another armoured figure was walking towards them. This one was cradling a strange looking rifle in his arms. From the flickers of green lightning within the gun's barrel, the boy surmised it to be some sort of plasma weapon. Wait... Plasma weapons? Even the Brotherhood... The boy was suddenly very glad he had surrendered as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

"Yes, sir?"

"Who is that?"

"One of the Project Purity people. The Colonel wants him in the control room."

"But have you found any others?"

The man (Jennings?) escorting the boy shook his helmeted head and the other man made a concerned noise.

"There should be a lot more of them but all we've found are Wilson, Kaplinski and that Holt woman."

Wilson? The boy's eyes widened. But before he could ask further questions, his escort pulled open the door to the control room and gestured towards it with a jerk of his head.

Another half dozen armoured men stood around within the rotunda, directed by a man with a tan uniform and black cap. Jennings led the boy straight past them into the main control room. Another two men in power armour stood here, flanking a grey haired man in an overcoat of the same tan material. The grey haired man was talking to someone by the main control panel and as the boy walked into the main room, he saw that the someone was his father. The scientist's eyes widened as he saw him and the overcoated gentleman followed their gaze to the new arrivals. His thin mouth split into a smile and he spoke up in a distinctive accent that the boy could not place.

"Ah and this is the good doctor's son. Toby, right?"

The boy nodded slowly. They were about to say something further when a deep echoing boom reverberated through the building. In the distance there was the high pitched squeal of a Gatling laser followed by more explosions. The man in the overcoat reached up and touched his headset.

"What is going on?"

"..."

"Through the sewers? Well? Did you get them?"

"..."

"What! So now the Brotherhood knows?"

"..."

"How long have we got?"

"..."

"Goddamnit! Okay... We've still got another two companies in reserve. With Vertibird support, they should be enough to hold the place until we can bring in some heavier stuff from Adams... Evacuation? Of what exactly?"

"..."

The grey haired man looked up at Toby and his father, linking eyes with Toby for a moment before the boy looked awkwardly away. A faint smile returned on the man's face.

"Yeah. We'll get them to Raven Rock. Have a transport prepped for them."

He removed a finger from his headset and began barking orders to the two power armoured troopers next to him. They saluted in unison and motioned for Toby and his father to follow them. The boy did so as meekly as possible. If they could hold off a Brotherhood assault this close to the Citadel, these people meant business. His father looked at them with disdain in his eyes but complied as well. The father and son met each other's eyes and James offered his son a reassuring smile that did nothing to relieve the fear building in the boy's stomach. They were in the middle of a battle between two of what must be the two most terrifying human factions of the Wasteland. How could he not be slightly scared?

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><p>Toby did not consider himself the impatient type. He had once hidden in a locker for the better part of three hours while hiding from a Super Mutant patrol. But that time, it had been a paralysis of fear rather than this deep uneasiness in his gut. He was pacing up and down the Spartan metal room that he had been left in ever since arriving in "Raven Rock". His father was in a nearby room but they hadn't had a chance to talk other than James' hissed warning: "Don't tell them anything!".<p>

Toby bit his lip. He had no idea how the battle over the Jefferson Memorial had gone but it must have been over by now, right? He had been in this room for at least twelve hours although he did not have much to go by other than the occasional visit by a radiation suit-wearing doctor who had given him a brief check up and a bowl of surprisingly palatable mush. They had also taken his pipboy away upon arriving and replaced his stained 101 jumpsuit with a clean albeit slightly baggy set of pre-war clothes.

He was wondering about the battle at the Memorial. Why did the Brotherhood care so much about the Purifier? They had been perfectly fine when the place was infested with supermutants but as soon as someone else showed up, they had attacked. Not exactly the smartest move, Toby mused, remembering the menacing glow of the Enclave plasma rifles and the terrible power of their Vertibirds. But then again, Toby smirked, the Brotherhood were hardly the sharpest tools in the shed. History had been Toby's favourite lesson back in the Vault and he had impatiently devoured every book on the subject he could find and even a few badly damaged ones he found in the Wasteland. The Brotherhood was what the books called "dogmatic". They had started following rules for rules sake as opposed to genuinely caring about why the rules were instituted in the first place. They hoarded children's books for god's sake! If he had not been trying to charm the woman into giving him an almost pristine copy of _"The Campaigns of Napoleon"_, he would have pointed that out to Scribe Yearling long ago.

The Brotherhood were stuck in an endless cycle. War is all they knew and eventually, that would prevent them from rebuilding the world properly. They scorned all non-military avenues of research and clung to their slowly decaying pieces of pre-war technology as if simply wearing power armour was all that was required for the world to go back to normal, as if it would cause raiders to start dressing in the Church Best and feral ghouls to rebuild the metro system. It was a stupid. But the Enclave, they had all the tech of the Brotherhood and maybe even more. And they seemed to have a pretty active interest in the Purifier...

Toby was so engrossed in his ponderings that he did not notice the door open with a metallic hiss. He turned and his eyes opened in shock. It was the grey haired man from the purifier and what he assumed to be a high ranking officer. The man offered a thin smile and his hand.

"Good evening, Mr Wilson."

Toby shook the offered hand. It had been a long time since anyone called him that. To most, he was the Lone Wanderer (a fairly stupid moniker in his opinion but he was not going to venture all the way to GNR just to tell Three Dog what he thought about it) or Toby to the small collection of people he knew well. The only people to call him Mr Wilson were the adults in the Vault, a fact which brought back some of the gnawing homesickness that he had been trying to suppress. This Enclave facility seemed uncannily similar in a great deal of ways, something which only exacerbated the feeling.

"Thank you..."

"Colonel Autumn."

"Colonel Autumn, sir."

The grey haired man cracked another thin smile, this one slightly more genuine than the first. He gestured that they should sit down and Toby fell back onto the thin bed (Oh, the forgotten wonders of a clean mattress!). The Colonel sat himself on the chair of the small desk in the corner and swivelled around to face Toby.

"You're a civilian, son. No need for those military formalities."

His friendliness was quite artificial but that was at least better than the outright hostility that most people outside the Vault seemed to engage in. Toby returned the man's smile. Only now, his father's warnings played inside his head.

"_Don't tell them anything!"_

But why? What made these people so intrinsically worse than everyone else? The Colonel leaned back slightly and folded his arms, gazing at Toby with those peculiar dark green eyes of his and the boy looked away again. The Colonel produced a faint chuckle.

"I don't bite, son."

Toby nodded jerkily, not wanting to point out that Autumn had hundreds of power armoured minions at his disposal, each of them armed with weapons capable of doing things which would make a mere bite seem quite insubstantial. Swallowing his nervousness, or at least as much as he could, Toby spoke up.

"W-What do you want?"

The Colonel looked at him, his eyes less piercing now. Almost friendly.

"Well, I thought that you had to have some questions. It's not every day that three companies of power armoured infantry are airlifted on top of your place of work..."

Toby offered an awkward laugh which Autumn echoed. Toby felt a surge of questions struggling beneath the restraining bolt of his father's warning. But surely if _he_ was the one asking the questions...

"What is the Enclave?"

Autumn uncrossed his arms and leant forward slightly, straightening his back with unconscious military precision.

"The Enclave is the remains of the United States Government. Before the war, large numbers of US Armed Forces Personnel, members of government and their families were sealed in shelters not unlike your very own Vault. It was our mission to rebuild America after the radiation cleared. Unfortunately... there were complications. The supermutants were one, the Brotherhood were another. We came close to solving the mutant issue around thirty five years ago but the Brotherhood attacked us and... We lost. Maybe five percent of our civilian population and nine percent of our armed forces were killed when they attacked the Poseidon Oilrig. It was a disaster."

There was something about the Colonel's posture as he mentioned the Oilrig. Toby did a quick bit of mental arithmetic and surmised that the Colonel must have been around ten at the time. Old enough to remember someone who hadn't made it?

"We relocated most of the old West Coast personnel to Raven Rock and Adams AFB immediately afterwards. We've been building strength ever since, getting some of the old replicator machinery and hydroponics facilities working again."

"And Project Purity?"

Autumn's eyes shone with sudden fervour.

"It is the first stage of the Reclamation. Your parents were absolutely correct about the effects that such a technology could have on the population of the wastes. We can unify everyone. No more pathetic squabbling over resources or slavery. Once all the big groups have come together under the Enclave banner, we are a nation once more. After that, the reconstruction of factories and infrastructure is basic..."

Toby found himself nodding in agreement. But then he stopped himself.

"But why are you telling me this?"

Autumn raised an eyebrow and Toby was about to apologise for interrupting before Autumn gave another faint chuckle.

"Quite right. I was beginning to sound like our beloved President for a moment there."

He smiled and with every time, the expression became a little more genuine.

"The reason I am speaking to you, Mr Wilson... or would you rather, oh what was it... 'The Last, Best Hope for Humanity'?"

Toby looked down.

"So you have been listening to GNR?"

Autumn smirked.

"It's the next best thing after the Eyebots," his face turned slightly more serious, "but the rantings of that... _man_ aside, I have come to the conclusion that you are a man of some integrity. You help people whenever you can and don't even demand a reward. Hell! When I was nineteen, all I did was chase girls and play football. But you, son, you've got a rare combination. You want to save the Wasteland _and_ you have the potential too."

Toby's head was spinning. Living up to Three Dog's broadcasts had been a source of much depression on the boy's part. How was he supposed to be the 'Last, Best Hope for Humanity' if he was just one man and a fairly scrawny, nineteen year old one at that? But Autumn seemed to think that there was a way. Killing raiders was one thing but what about creating a world where raiders did not need to kill and steal? The Brotherhood had been hacking at the symptoms for centuries and gone nowhere.

Because they did not strike at the cause.

Toby found himself nodding. He could fight by himself for all of his life and accomplish next to nothing. But now? He was being given the chance to be more than one man. He could help an organisation of hundreds, an organisation with all the technology one could need to reclaim the Wasteland. Surely, that was 'Fighting the Good Fight'?

Autumn stood, about to leave Toby to his ponderings. He was almost at the door when he heard Toby stand. The Colonel looked at him and Toby saw his own resolute eyes reflected in the man's dark green irises.

"We need to find a GECK."

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><p>AN

Toby is not stupid but he is kind of naïve. He has only been privy to a fairly rose-tinted version of the Enclave and his obsession with the past has left him with a pretty poor view of the present which makes the Enclave's promises even more alluring. Simply put, I am not making the Enclave out to be the good guys. They only seem that way from Toby's perspective.

Autumn thinks Toby is going to be useful because of the above as well as Toby's reputation in the wastes. That is why he comes across nicer. We will be seeing the nastier side of pretty much everyone in this story eventually, Brotherhood as well as Enclave. Still, if you think I am taking characters too far out, just say something. Toby is, of course, my own invention but don't be afraid to comment on him too. If he comes across sort of wimpy, you're right. But that knowledge of Napoleon and other generals is going to come in handy sooner or later... *manic laughter*


	2. Chapter 2

Hospitals always smelt the same. Toby had spent many hours in the Vault Clinic with his father, to the extent that the pungent alkali smell of disinfectant had clung to his old vault clothes for weeks after leaving the Vault. Even Doc Church's pathetic little shack had had some of the same smell. The sickly smell of blood and the sharp stench of sweat mingled with the distinctive wiff of Abraxo and even a hint of ozone produced by a pair of Mister Handy orderlies that buzzed around the beds, dispensing unhelpful advice in their grating voices.

"Mr Wilson?"

Toby shook himself slightly and gave his escort an apologetic smile.

"Sorry."

The young Lieutenant gave him an odd look but did not press him. Toby did his best to conceal a twitch that was half nervous, half angry. Most of the staff treated him like one might the friend of a friend who is suffering from dementia, polite but worried and occasionally even condescending. Toby did not very much appreciate their distrustful glances and concerned looks but conceded that they had probably never seen someone from outside their community before. God knows, he had freaked out the first time he had left the safety of _his_ own home. Simms had never really forgiven him for what happened to "Deputy Weld". Fearful that he was spacing out again and further damaging his already frail reputation of sanity as far as most Raven Rock personnel were concerned, he pulled himself back to Earth just in time for the Lieutenant to motion for him to enter a smallish room lit with cool blue lights.

"Ah, Toby!"

The Colonel was seated behind a sturdy looking metal desk, piled high with papers. The only spot devoid of any sheets was the top of his personal terminal upon which was placed a Vault Boy Bobblehead of all things. As he stepped into the room, he felt a pair of eyes on his back and turned. Leaning against the wall next to the door was a sandy haired young man wearing the tan uniform of a commissioned officer. He did not look much older than Toby yet there was a confidence lurking behind his languid posture that made Toby immediately feel lacking.

"Lieutenant Walker?"

Toby's escort straightened slightly. Toby shot her a glance but she continued to stare forward at her commander.

"Yes sir?"

"Have the CASEVAC birds come in yet?"

"No sir. Major Williams said that they are due within the next half hour."

"Very well. You are dismissed."

The Lieutenant offered a crisp salute before turning on her heel and walking out. Once the door was closed, Autumn let out a faint sigh and placed a hand on his head, his fingers making small circles on his scalp. Toby felt suddenly aware of how old the man must be. Mid fifties at least...

"The Enclave suffered a major blow today."

Toby turned and saw that the sand-haired officer had left his place by the door and was walking to the Colonel's side. As he reached his commander, he retrieved something from the pocket of his uniform and handed it to Autumn who swallowed it without hesitation. A pained look crossed the Colonel's features for a moment before he straightened and returned once again to the model of military precision that Toby had come to expect. His facade back in place, Autumn began to speak.

"Ever since we first took control of Project Purity, the Brotherhood has been launching probing attacks. The first few were pretty bad; we had them startled so they tried to overwhelm us quickly. But since then things have calmed down somewhat. They would send a few scouts over but they did not try a major attack. At least, until a few hours ago."

The man's face darkened.

"They opened up with artillery early this morning. We thought they would not risk damaging the Purifier and hence are positions were... ill prepared for such an attack. We clearly miscalculated and we lost a lot of men for that mistake."

He let out another faint sigh but recovered quicker than before and continued almost immediately.

"Soon after the artillery ceased, the Brotherhood attacked en masse with troops in those ancient T45b suits. Our men at the Purifier held them off but we suffered badly. More men are being drawn up from Adams and Quantico but the area is rapidly becoming a goddamn meatgrinder."

History book pages flashed through Toby's head. Passendale, 1917. Stalingrad, 1941. Anchorage 2066. He shuddered. As impressive as the Enclave tech was, they hardly had the capacity to enter into such a battle. It would destroy the short grace period at the beginning of every war where the populace are fully behind it out of patriotic spirit and most likely kill morale within the military too. Such a small community made massed casualties hard to hide. Toby could not think of a worse way to begin a campaign. This could put their plans behind by years... His musings were interrupted by the sandy-haired young man.

"Due to the current circumstances, we have deemed further work on the Purifier to be a waste of resources."

It was a dismissal, naturally. Toby felt a little disappointed but nodded.

"Thank you for explaining the situation."

They could just have easily told him nothing. The fact that they were showing him weakness was either a sign of trust or simple idiocy. Or maybe it was misinformation, a small voice at the back of his head whispered; a test of loyalty to see if he would jump ship if the Enclave looked to be in a bad position. Toby bit his lip and let himself out. As he did, he heard Autumn's voice behind him call out:

"If you need anything, Lieutenant Walker is on duty. I will send her to check on you every now and again if you want to remain up to date."

Toby turned and was about to thank the Colonel when an alarm began to blare. A moment later, the young Lieutenant in question appeared in the doorway, her face slightly flushed.

"Colonel Autumn, Captain Weiss? The CASEVAC birds have just come in."

Autumn nodded and stood, motioning for the sandy-haired man to follow him. Toby watched the man with sudden interest. A Captain at twenty? Weiss clearly had some serious talent or was very good at kissing ass and Toby was pretty sure that Autumn was not the sort of man who tolerated the latter. Autumn and Weiss began to hurry for the door and Toby stepped smartly out of their way as they began a brisk walk towards the hospital. Toby followed, his hands fidgeting nervously.

Hospitals did not always smell the same. As soon as the doors to the hospital opened, a barrage of dreadful new smells assaulted Toby's nose. A dark acrid smell like burnt plastic where composite armour had been scorched by lasers, the sharp scent of motor-oil where it pooled from damaged servo-joints and underlying it all, a horrible greasy stench like poorly cooked meat. The sounds were all wrong too. The hospital had been quiet mere minutes ago when he walked through but now the filtered air was wrought by screams of every description. A shrill cry of pain as a doctor attempted to pull shrapnel out of a stomach. A pathetic moan from a soldier, eyes clouded by Med-X and fingers scrabbling weakly at a leg that was no longer there. A terrible gurgling sound issuing from a throat viciously slashed by a laser bolt, carbonised skin and red cooked flesh threatening to slide off the bone as the dying man twitched from side to side. An animal shriek as one of the doctor's recognised her husband just before the body bag could be zipped up.

Toby could not help it. He threw up all over the white linoleum floor.

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><p>There was really only one spot in Raven Rock where Toby could be alone. It was called the Rookery, a tiny open-air observation post that gave astonishing views over the Capital Wasteland to the south even if it was meant to be there to oversee the hanger entrances for the Vertibirds.<p>

It was an odd thing. When he first entered the wastes, being alone had been a completely novel experience. Living in a Vault meant living in close proximity to dozens of others, even if you didn't really like them. Cough*Butch*Cough. Being outside was another thing. Agoraphobia had been the word he had picked up from the Big Book of Science and in those first few weeks, the great outdoors had been terrifying beyond belief. But now...

Toby lay on his back, the padded back of his jumpsuit protecting him from the rough feel of the concrete. Now that the last vertibirds had come in, the landing lights had been shut off and the landscape was completely dark. Above Toby, the night sky was awash with stars. The milky arm of their galaxy was visible, a blur of light caused by unknown millions of individual pinpricks of light.

There was the sound of the metal hatch opening and another figure pulled itself out the small opening. The figure did not seem to notice Toby as it stood and began searching its pockets. Eventually, there was the snap of a match and in the burst of light, Toby recognised Weiss.

"It's a lovely evening."

The sandy-haired officer jumped at Toby's voice and dropped his cigarette which extinguished itself in a flurry of bright sparks upon hitting the ground.

"Wilson? Is that you?"

"Yep."

The silence was becoming slightly uncomfortable but for once, Toby did not mind. He had been planning this conversation with Weiss ever since that morning and now was as good a time as any.

"Tell me, Captain. Have you ever read any von Clausewitz?"

In the dim light of another cigarette, Toby could see a flash of confusion cross the man's face.

"No."

"Shame. Before the war, most American officers would read at least parts of On War. Pretty good considering he died in 1830."

Toby was silent for a moment before continuing. Despite the poor light, he could tell that Weiss' own silence was not one of disinterest. Good.

"One of his more famous maxims was that the nation most prepared to commit totally to a war would be the one who would succeed."

Toby cleared his throat.

"As I understand it, the Enclave has three advantages in this war. The vertibirds provide us with massively superior mobility and reaction capacity. Our tech outclasses the Brotherhood in terms of armour, weapons and medical capability. And finally, we have a manufacturing capacity that no-one on the entire East Coast can match. By defending a single fixed position, we are throwing away the first advantage. By allowing our men into a situation where the Brotherhood's superior numbers can be brought to play, we are negating the second. And due to the Enclave's low population, the effects of the last are minimal."

Weiss nodded slightly.

"An impressive piece of analysis, Wilson. But I fail to see what we can do about it. We cannot cede control of the Purifier to the Brotherhood; it is key to our control over the region."

Toby sat up and looked at the young Captain, meeting his eyes for the first time.

"I will not argue about the importance of the Purifier. I of all people should know how significant such a machine will be in the reconstruction of this area. But... it is ultimately just a piece of land. It can be reclaimed. The lives lost defending it cannot be so easily recuperated."

Weiss inhaled sharply at that. The population of Raven Rock was small enough that Weiss had probably lost more than a few friends during the Brotherhood attack. Toby hesitated for a moment, his precious plan threatening to stumble if Weiss got too upset. But then the young Captain offered a sharp nod and Toby continued.

"The Brotherhood cannot start the Purifier without a GECK. There is no danger that they get the thing operational in the foreseeable future. In the meantime, we can bleed them dry across fronts where our advantages are strongest. Attack their more isolated outposts with overwhelming force and disappear before reinforcements can move up. Destroy their supply convoys and harass their recruitment stations. Ultimately, they will have to choose between their mission of protecting the people of DC from the super-mutants or they will abandon the Purifier. No matter which one they pick, we benefit."

"And how will the fact they have stopped wasting resources on the super-mutants help us? Killing muties is just about the only thing those bastards can do right."

Toby smirked. It was one of the first things he had realised about the Brotherhood ever since he met Lyons.

"The Brotherhood's control of DC is one big illusion. They have a few pseudo-fortresses like GNR and the Washington Memorial but other than that, everything belongs to the mutants. Once even those outposts are gone, the mutants have total control of the city and will have lost the only distraction keeping them there. It'll only be a matter of time before they move on Rivet City or expand west towards the other population centres around Megaton and Big Town. People will think that the Brotherhood have decided to protect their own asses rather than the helpless masses. Once the situation gets dire, the Enclave can step in. Use our manufacturing capacity to arm the people with laser pistols and the like. Something with punch but not enough to penetrate Power Armour."

Weiss looked pensive.

"How about assault rifles loaded with hollow points? They should tear up the muties pretty bad but will just bounce off of our armour."

Toby nodded.

"And give them sentry bots. We can remotely play with their IFFs if need be."

The two men looked at each other, grins beginning to stretch across their faces. After a moment, Weiss offered his hand.

"I'm Simon by the way."

Toby reached up and took the offered hand which pulled him to his feet with casual strength.

"I'm Toby. It's good to meet you."

"Likewise, Toby. Now, all that talking has no doubt made you pretty thirsty. We're throwing a wake for those casualties that came in this morning. Plenty of booze and a few of the chicks will no doubt get drunk and start humping the fascinating new guy."

Toby paled slightly at that thought.

"B-But isn't that slightly disrespectful... For the dead, I mean?"

Simon shrugged and flashed a smile.

"It's what I would want if I died. Nothing like drinking and sexual promiscuity for a rousing send-off."

He chuckled and grabbed Toby as if he might run off. It was a pretty shrewd move.

"Come on. I'll introduce you to some of the men from Sigma Squad. They just got here from Adams and I promised them a good time."

I think, Toby thought as he was manhandled down the ladder, I have just made a friend. Sort of.

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><p>AN

There you go. I hope you find my assumptions relating the comparative strengths and weaknesses of the Enclave and the Brotherhood to be believable. Now to pre-empt a few questions, this story will mainly take place in the Capital Wasteland and I am undecided as to include any of the DLCs apart from Broken Steel. However, New Vegas characters will make appearances (including one in the next few chapters) and I am toying with the idea of an Enclave vs Caesar's Legion campaign (as much of a total push over it would be...). Review with your two cents and I will do my best to accommodate your ideas.


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